


Don't Imagine

by Weissnichtwo (LoudenSwain713)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Forbidden Love, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, My friend has now corrupted me, One Shot, Post-Break Up, Sad Ending, Sort Of, Summer of Like, This is not Happy, Warped Tour 2005, petekey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 17:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoudenSwain713/pseuds/Weissnichtwo
Summary: Don’t imagine that they slip away from each other quietly. There isn’t any fighting. Please, if it’s easier, imagine the fights. Imagine the screams and the instantaneous shattering of hearts.Don’t imagine the drifting. Don’t imagine how Pete only sees Mikey once a week, and then once a month, and then not even that, every other month if he’s lucky.Don’t imagine the weathering of their hearts, the small fractures that split, ever so slowly, into gaping canyons.Don’t imagine the quiet and the caverns that yawn ever wider in it. Don’t imagine how easy it gets, to just not pick up the phone, to not text, to not call. It all gets so, so easy.





	Don't Imagine

Don’t imagine Pete wrapping a congratulatory arm around Mikey after a show, his hand lingering a little too long on the younger man’s shoulder.

Don’t imagine Pete staring at Mikey, hidden behind the other mass of people watching My Chem, just waiting for Gerard to catch sight of him and not-so-subtly kick him off.

Don’t imagine Pete stumbling blindly in the dark through Fall Out Boy’s bus, trying not to wake his bandmates. He makes it though, his feet thudding onto the packed dirt outside the door, bounding eagerly toward a tree that had been decided on the day before.

Don’t imagine Mikey sliding almost-silently from his bunk, his feet just slightly too loud. Don’t imagine him opening the door only to close it as he hears the soft voice of his brother say “Don’t, Mikey. He isn’t good for you,” Too tired to argue, Mikey doesn’t try to open the door again.

Don’t imagine Pete waiting for 20, 30, 40 minutes before he finally realizes Mikey may not be coming. It’s another half hour before he finally leaves, his feet dragging, his shoulders slumped, his fingers tracing lines on his wrist. Three more are added that night.

Don’t imagine their eyes meeting from across the stage, Pete’s: tired and desperate; Mikey’s: dark and regretful.

Don’t imagine Mikey grabbing Pete’s wrist in a rare moment of privacy. Don’t imagine that they clash together like the surf breaking on the shore.

Don’t imagine Mikey stumbling away, apologies on his lips, apologies swept away by another wave, this one gentler.

Don’t imagine Pete continuing on like nothing had happened, though, in reality, everything had happened.

 

Don’t imagine Gerard finally giving in, though, dammit, he’s  _ told _ Mikey. This won’t end well, he thinks, his head in his hands, staring into a cup of decidedly pungent brown liquid.

Don’t imagine that, as Pete and Mikey spend more time together, their eyes get brighter. Don’t imagine their scars fading. Don’t imagine that they make each other better.

Please, don’t imagine this. It only makes it worse.

 

Don’t imagine that, as the summer ends, perspectives shift.

Don’t imagine Mikey starting to hold Pete’s hand less and less until it’s almost like nothing is there.

Don’t imagine Pete grasping desperately at the rapidly fading, ghost-like hand. The ghost-like man, really. Because does he really see Mikey that much anymore?

 

Don’t imagine that they slip away from each other quietly. There isn’t any fighting. Please, if it’s easier, imagine the fights. Imagine the screams and the instantaneous shattering of hearts.

Don’t imagine the drifting. Don’t imagine how Pete only sees Mikey once a week, and then once a month, and then not even that, every other month if he’s lucky.

Don’t imagine the weathering of their hearts, the small fractures that split, ever so slowly, into gaping canyons.

Don’t imagine the quiet and the caverns that yawn ever wider in it. Don’t imagine how easy it gets, to just not pick up the phone, to not text, to not call. It all gets so,  _ so _ easy.

 

Don’t imagine this all happening so gradually that neither of them realizes it. Don’t imagine Mikey calling Pete and saying, through blurred vision and muffled hiccups that “this can’t work anymore,”  
Don’t imagine the scars coming back. Don’t imagine their eyes darkening with every week that goes by.

Don’t imagine Pete hunching over a notebook of loose thoughts and tear-stained pages, gripping tightly to feelings and memories that are already fading oh so fast.

Don’t imagine Gerard leaning over Mikey as he sits curled up on the floor. The floor is cold and there, but Mikey is not, his mind stuck months in the past in those warm, sunny days. “Hey,” Gerard says softly, “it’s ok, little bro.”

Don’t imagine Mikey shaking with repressed tears, glaring at his brother because  _ Have you even been paying attention?! What about this is ok? _

Don’t imagine the memories fading. After months, a year, longer, they’re just that, memories.They’re scars now, still raw in places but mostly healed. Mostly.

Please, don’t imagine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! Constructive criticism is appreciated.


End file.
